Page 60 of Ruin My Life

A python. A memory.

A man with hands strong as steel and poisonous green eyes.

The pressure crushes my ribs, squeezes the air from my lungs. The weight on my chest is too heavy.

The weight ofhimis too heavy.

Pressing my knees into my ribs until they crack.

I can’t move.

I can’t breathe.

Ican’t—

I collapse, catching myself on my hands and knees. My palms scrape against the floorboards as my chest caves in. My vision blurs with tears that never quite fall, and my nails dig into the wood like I can somehow claw my way out of this feeling.

Breathe, Brie. He’s not here.

It’s her voice—Amie’s. Soothing. Soft. Almost real.

I shake my head, trying to shake her loose.

But I canfeelher. A phantom hand on my shoulder. Warm breath in my hair.

You’re okay. Just Breathe. You’re okay.

No, I’m not.

She’s gone.

She’s gone and I didn’t save her and I’m still here.

I squeeze my eyes shut, locking the tears behind my lashes, and suck in a breath. Shallow. Incomplete. But it’s something.

In.One... two... three.

Out.One... two... three.

Again.

And again.

And again.

I don’t know how long I sit there, folded in on myself, repeating the ritual like a prayer to a god that never answered me.

Eventually, the world settles. My lungs remember how to function. My chest loosens. The shaking dulls.

But I still feel empty. Like my bones have liquefied. If I try to stand, I know I’ll fall again—so I don’t.

I crawl up the side of the bed and slide beneath the sheets like a ghost pulling itself back into a grave. I curl in on myself, tight and small in the center of the mattress.

I wish Amie were here.

I wish I could go back to that night and change something—anything.

Stop it from happening. Take her place. Get five more minutes.